wasn’t i complaining
yesterday
or the day before
(or the day before that)
that i wanted to get back to my
regularly scheduled schedule
and continue on in my routine of routines?

so why, now, comfortably sitting in
‘we’ve taken the dog out,
we’ve started the lofi beats spotify station,
we’re both at the table, doing our morning writings’
do i miss
so terribly
the hustle
the bustle
the never knowing what’s going to happen
from one moment to the next?

oh!

did i just need a cat in my lap?
this portion of my routine,
my every day,
my comfort and creativity,
that had been missing
pretty much
since we moved?

(even tho i do stop every few lines
to pet and love her
so she stays,
she still really does
help me
feel
the morning page
poetry
routine
i’d been missing
[and then immediately
got bored of].)

(she is the chaos
that i need
to appreciate
routine)